My Imaginary Friend was Spiderman, but it’s not who you think he is.
When I was a little kid, I had an imaginary friend. Most kids do, and a lot of kids aren't very creative when they make theirs. I had a friend whose imaginary friend was Bob The Builder, and another that had one which sounded identical to Harry Potter in all but name. I guess that's probably what my parents thought about me when I told them about my new imaginary friend, Spiderman. Some of my first memories were about the Spiderman. I remember him looking at me in my bed, playing games with me, and slinking away into a closet or under the bed whenever my parents showed up. He wasn't a guy in some red and blue spandex, I called him the Spiderman because his arms and legs were just so impossibly thin. As I got older and older I saw him less and less, as is pretty typical with imaginary friends I guess. I'd notice him lurking in the corners of the rooms, hiding under my bed, or hear him bumping around inside the walls, where I always imagined he had built a spider home. Eventually, I stopped hearing him much at all. I got older and forgot about it. Partially because like most teenagers I was embarrassed that I had ever even been a little kid and wanted to forget all of the things that made me cringe about myself. When I was moving out to go off to college, I got one little reminder right before I left. My little nephew was over, and he said something about a daddy-long-legs. He seemed pretty scared. I leaned down and told the little guy that they're not actually dangerous and he doesn't need to worry about them, but he kept insisting it was just so big! I told him to take me to where he saw it. To this day I'll swear by what I saw. He led me to one of those little maintenance hatches that connect to a boiler and I swear to God I saw a long, emaciated looking hand snaking into the crawlspace as I entered the room. Suddenly all my childhood memories came rushing back to me. Why was my imaginary friend so weird and creepy? A long, thin, naked man that I called Spiderman? Where did I even come up with that? I didn't know what else to do, so I practically shoved him into my sister's lap on my way out the door and said I had to meet with my college counselor right away. I know it was selfish, and that I should have done something, but I didn't want to think about it. I just left. It creeped me out way too much. I got too caught up in college work. The stress, the debt, the deadlines, the sleepless nights, it was too much to worry about a silly imaginary friend. I had definitely imagined that hand. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. And after I graduated, when I finally thought I'd get my life back on track, things got worse. The police told me it was a natural gas leak that killed my parents, said the detectors in the house were old and weren't working properly. They assured me they had died peacefully while sleeping and they hadn't suffered. It hit me pretty hard. The next few weeks were a blur, making funeral arrangements, going over their life insurance plans, and having a company come out to investigate and repair the leak, wherever it was. My sister said I should keep the house, since she was already married and had a family and no student loans. I found myself somehow back in my old childhood home. Sleeping in the same bed I had slept in through my teenage years, wondering where my life was supposed to go from there. That's when I heard the thumping in the walls starting again. I was too scared the first time I heard it to do anything. I just lay in bed, frozen, unmoving and hiding under the blankets like a little kid. It sounded like something huge was snaking along slowly inside the drywall. I fell asleep that night covered in a cold sweat. The next few nights were much the same, and after a while it lost its bite. It had happened every night for weeks and I hadn't been murdered yet, it must just be some animals or something. Then one night, I was coming home from work when I heard a violent thrashing coming from upstairs. I ran up yelling at whoever or whatever it was to get the hell out of my house. The wall was shaking like something was going to burst out. I left then and there and stayed at a hotel for four days. When I finally had the courage to go home, things seemed peaceful. I went around the house checking the nooks and crannies, listening to the walls. Everything seemed fine. When I got to the wall I had heard the thrashing from I almost didn't notice anything different at all. Except for the smell. It was the smell of something dead, something rotting. Sickly sweet and heavy in a way where it sticks inside your nostrils. I called an exterminator and explained that something had died in my walls, and got a quote on how much it would be to have it removed. He said he could come by at 3:00 tomorrow. I told him I'd be at work but I'd leave the back door unlocked and he could let himself in. When I got home from work at about six thirty, I definitely wasn't expecting the police cruisers in my driveway. When I got out of my car an officer pulled me aside and explained to me that I was being detained. He told me that when the exterminator started busting through the drywall to get at the smell, they found a human body. It took a while to clear my name but the coroner's report backed me up. The body was an elderly male who was emaciated, starved half to death, with arms and legs so long and thin even the report used the word spidery. They said he'd gotten stuck, and further investigations showed he'd had several nests in the walls. Filled with old toys, bits of stolen food, and underwear. Suddenly memories of the spiderman came rushing back to me one last time. I felt sick. My imaginary friend had never been imaginary at all, he'd been some disturbed emaciated freak living in my walls the whole time. Playing with a child and slinking off to hide whenever the parents came in. As I tried not to throw up, I wondered how my parents had really died. Category:Fanfic Category:Creepypasta